


smother

by comforting (orphan_account)



Category: Total Drama
Genre: Light breathplay, M/M, love/hate relationship (?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/comforting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you’re being voted out tonight, and you know exactly why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	smother

**Author's Note:**

> takes place sometime during the obsta-kill kourse or whatever the fuck i dont care anymore

hate, hate, _hate_ was all you could do. you gritted your teeth, furrowed your brows, balled up your fists. behind the cabins, you wanted to hit him, leave a mark, some sort of a stinging reminder that, ‘how dare you ruin this day for me. you’re filth.’

his pose was leisurely, his whole frame leant against the wall, a foot popped back. his hair was still up. he looked at you from the corner of his eye with disdain, and kept it there, starting at your shoes. “heard you might be voted off, after today’s challenge.” you felt his gaze move upwards to your legs. “bummer, huh?” the smirk in his voice is apparent.

you paced closer towards him, back hunched and lower lip slightly pouted out, eyes narrowed. “in your dreams, perhaps. even so, it’s quite noticable that they’ll eventually find out about your true intentions, amigo.” you added the last bit for good measure, and he seemingly took it the wrong way. he stood up, back straightened.

“what makes you think that you’re my friend?” he scoffed, tracing your jawline with his eyes. his hair began to slowly shag over his eye.

he was so infuriating, so mind-bogglingly dumb, that your palm just so happened to meet his cheek within the heat of the moment, his eyelids quickly shut tight before the impact. he allowed this briefly, slowly opening his eyes. he glared at you with vindictive running through his veins, cheek beginning to swell up.

he made a futile attempt to kick you, but you dodged it just in time and pinned him against the wall, thumbs pressed against his throat and fingers touching the nape of his neck. you realized what you have done. he has as well.

“mike, mal, whoever the _hell_ you are —” you started, but you were interrupted by him.

“i’d say that someone hasn’t been keeping up,” he retorts. you feel the vibrations against his throat.

“shut up,” you snap. his lips languidly curved into a smile as you spat down at him, grip tightening around his neck. “you’re disgusting.”

“how flattering.”

“you probably got that a lot, anyway.”

he hummed, smirking up at you from tired, half-lidded eyes. you stared down at him, gradually applying more pressure to your thumbs until he stiffened, his hands quickly clamped around your wrists. his jaw was slightly ajar, teeth barely flashing and tongue flattened against the roof of his mouth. he gagged and pried your arms away from him. “don’t do that,” he swallowed, tugging on the collar of his shirt.

you rolled your eyes. “i can do what i please, mike.” you smiled a little when he froze, in the middle of styling his hair with his slick hand.

he frowns. “don’t call me by that numbskull’s name, either.”

-

the little crackle of the bonfire was somewhat comforting, but not enough. you hear chris say names, stretch out a few of the syllables, and you’ve had been expecting this, but it’s all so sudden.

he flashed a picture of you with a big red x crossed over your face, the traditional artificial grin plastered among his features. you hunched your shoulders and bitterly smacked your lips, standing up.

you clenched your fists as mal bid farewell, wiggling his fingers with an arm snaked around zoey’s waist.

(it was so _obvious_ ; was she _blind_?)

around and around you went, your hair and clothes soggy and sticking to your body, head spinning like a tornado. you still hate him.


End file.
